


Just a Routine Thing

by spinninginfinity



Category: Doctor Who (2005), The West Wing
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-09
Updated: 2013-05-09
Packaged: 2017-12-10 22:40:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/791010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spinninginfinity/pseuds/spinninginfinity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some of the things CJ learns as chief of staff are a little unexpected.</p><p>
  <i>‘Are you sure you’re not hazing me?’</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just a Routine Thing

The west wing was deserted.

CJ was getting used to the fact that her work hours had extended more dramatically than she’d have believed possible, but it seemed a little excessive to schedule this meeting—‘Just a routine thing, nothing to worry about,’ the president had assured her—at 11.30 on a Sunday night.

So she was tired, and already a little cranky, when she knocked on the door to the Oval Office.

‘CJ!’ the president said brightly, coming out from behind his desk as she entered. ‘Good evening. Can I get you a drink?’

‘No, thank you, sir.’

‘Well, if you change your mind, you let me know.’

She blinked. ‘Okay.’

The president poured himself a glass of scotch and indicated that she should sit down. ‘CJ,’ he said, ‘I’m going to tell you something that not many people in the world know, and I’ll also tell you that when I heard, I almost passed out, and when Leo heard, he took it on the chin in a way that was quite frankly a little disturbing, so any reaction between those two extremes is perfectly acceptable. Although—’ he gestured vaguely with the glass as he sat down on the sofa opposite her, ‘—maybe if you were more toward my end of the spectrum, Nancy McNally would stop mocking me.’

‘Sir,’ CJ said, alarmed, ‘what’s going on?’

The president met her eye. ‘Aliens are real.’

***

‘You do look a little faint,’ the president insisted.

‘No, I don’t,’ CJ said. She took a long swig of the scotch he’d handed her unasked as she’d absorbed his revelation. ‘Are you sure you’re not hazing me?’ she asked him. ‘Because you already got me pretty good my first day, and I think this is unfair.’

‘I’m not hazing you,’ he assured her.

‘We have proof? This isn’t just another water molecules on Mars thing?’

‘We have proof in the form of aliens walking among us here on Earth,’ he told her. ‘Will that do?’

‘That’d do it, yeah. Are we—’ she broke off for a moment to drain the last of her drink, hardly able to believe what she was about to say. ‘I’m sorry, sir, are we dealing with an alien threat?’

The president gave her a smile that she was sure was meant to be reassuring, though it didn’t help much. ‘No, no. Like I said, this is just a routine bit of information.’

‘Routine,’ she repeated flatly.

‘Yeah. I scheduled the meeting at this time because you’re going to wander around looking freaked for a while, and I wanted to let you do that without people asking you why.’

CJ took a deep breath. ‘Well, that was considerate of you, Mr. President; thank you.’

He looked at her sympathetically. ‘I know it’s a lot to take in. I asked a friend of mine to stop by to help you process it. He should be here by now, but it seems the man is incapable of showing up on time.’ He set his drink down on the table next to him and drummed his fingers restlessly against the arm of the sofa. ‘You’d think if you were going to give yourself some poncy title based around the concept, it would be something of a forte, wouldn’t you?’

‘I’m… sure it would be, sir. Who is this guy?’

Before he could answer, the air was filled with a deafening grinding sound. She swore loudly, putting her hands over her ears, then stared, dumbfounded, as a large blue box appeared out of nowhere, right in the middle of the room. 

A look at the calm expression on the president’s face told her that she didn’t need to scream for the secret service, so she waited for whatever the hell was happening to finish happening and then asked, ‘Is it possible I’m extremely high right now?’

‘No,’ the president said. He stood, gesturing toward the box. ‘This is ingenious, CJ. They used to have these police boxes all over the place in Britain. You’d never know this one was a spaceship.’

‘What?’

‘You’re late,’ the president snapped, as the doors to the box opened.

‘And you’re impatient,’ said the man who strode out of it. He was, CJ couldn’t help noticing, tall and attractive. And British. She stood, stepping forward cautiously, unsure of what to do.

‘We’ve had this meeting scheduled for weeks!’ the president exclaimed. ‘Not that it should be important when you have a time machine.’

‘Sorry, bit distracted—we just stopped two-headed goat aliens from blowing away half of Wyoming thirty years before it was Wyoming,’ the man said waspishly. ‘No need to thank me.’

The president shrugged. ‘No, I should think not. Wyoming is never going to vote for us.’ There was a pause, and he nodded. ‘Thank you.’

‘You’re welcome.’ The British man gave him a warm smile and then turned to beam at CJ, bounding forward to shake her hand enthusiastically. ‘Claudia Jean Cregg! You’re brilliant!’ He turned to frown at the president. ‘You didn’t introduce me; that was rude. He’s very rude,’ he said to CJ. ‘I’m the Doctor.’

‘Doctor…?’ CJ asked, looking down at her hand still caught in his grip and wondering if he’d also consider it rude for her to let go now.

‘Just “Doctor”,’ he said brightly. ‘And this is my friend, Rose Tyler.’ He turned around, looking confused at the distinct lack of a person behind him. ‘Did she wander off?’

‘Sorry!’ A young woman came barreling out of the box, slamming the door behind her and looking around the room. ‘Right.’ She gestured at her jeans and t-shirt. ‘Bit underdressed. Sorry. She’s locked me out of the wardrobe,’ she told the Doctor, coming to stand close to him. ‘Is she still annoyed about the thing with the blue goop last week, ’cause I’ve apologized over and over.’ She raised a hand awkwardly. ‘Hello, Mr. President.’

‘Rose, this is CJ Cregg,’ the Doctor cut in, before the president could respond to her. ‘She’s the press secretary—well, was. Big old promotion.’ He grinned at CJ. ‘Congratulations. ’

‘Thank you,’ CJ said. ‘Mr. President? Can I have a word?’

‘Sure,’ the president said jovially. He smiled at their guests. ‘Excuse us.’

‘This is supposed to help me process the fact that we’re not alone in the universe or even on this planet?’ she asked under her breath, once they’d moved away a little.

‘I was hoping it would, yeah.’

‘Sir, I say this with all possible respect, but do you have a full grasp of what the word “processing” means? Because I’ve just watched a box appear out of thin air and heard mentions of time machines, blue goop and two-headed goat aliens in the space of two minutes and I’m no closer to processing any of it.’

‘Oh, we haven’t even gotten to the good part yet,’ the president said. ‘Doctor, would you mind showing CJ around your ship?’

‘Show me around?’ CJ repeated. ‘It’s a box.’

The Doctor smiled. ‘Rose? Would you like to do the honors?’

***

‘You okay?’ Josh asked the next day. ‘You look like you’ve seen a ghost.’

CJ looked him dead in the eye. ‘An alien, actually, Joshua, in a spaceship that was bigger on the inside.’ She set off toward her office, leaving him blinking and confused in her wake.

‘You know, I’m not sure I got that joke,’ he called after her.

She grinned over her shoulder at him. ‘Who says I’m joking?’

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Feedback is welcome and appreciated as always.


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